


The Choice to Burn

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bandits & Outlaws, Confused Knights, Fear of Death, Gen, Hurt Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin Needs a Hug (Merlin), Sad Merlin, pyre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28547148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Arthur executed his first Sorcerer, and Merlin's trying not to panic
Relationships: Knights of the Round Table & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 392





	The Choice to Burn

Arthur had the sorcerer executed.

That was what played over and over in Merlin’s head, the way the Sorcerer had gasped for air as the fire flickered up, the pain that came with burning.

Arthur hadn't had a choice.

Merlin knew they were watching him. Gwaine and Lancelot, they watched the way Merlin kept quiet as the horses moved through the forest, the much-needed break that Arthur had needed after the harsh trial.

The man had killed innocents, and attempted treason. He deserved to burn, Merlin told himself, knowing this was the first time a Sorcerer had been _burned_ in Arthur’s reign.

This wasn’t a sign, he told himself. This had nothing to do with _him_ , it had everything to do with the people that died.

He couldn’t breathe. His lungs hurt, felt like they were filling with smoke every time he breathed in.

‘You’ve all been quiet with me, since the Pyre.’ The word had Merlin shuddering, grateful he was at the back of the party.

He’d burned. The flame had been lit, creeping up until it started to burn flesh. Sorcerers burned, that was the rule, and Merlin would do well to remember it.

‘We know it was necessary, Sire, but it is not something that is pleasant to witness.’ Leon pointed out, and Merlin could feel the First Knight look in his direction.

For a moment, Merlin wondered if Leon knew.

No, surely not. He’d be personally tied down if that happened, with flames burning his body and smoke being inhaled, until his lungs burst.

‘Magic… it corrupts.’ Arthur said it like a question, like he was pondering over whether he believed the phrase.

‘It seems that some Sorcerers are evil.’ Elyan conceded, emphasising the “some”.

‘And Magic is punishable by death.’ It was. And Merlin used it.

‘Perhaps we could change the conversation, Princess.’ Gwaine cheered, lazily winking to Merlin before urging his horse to speed up. That had Arthur huffing, rolling his eyes.

‘Most Knights would be keen to talk about the law.’

‘It’s boring and outdated.’ Gwaine provided, like what he said wasn’t _treasonous._

‘Merlin, please come and restrain Gwaine from taking your position as resident idiot.’ Arthur drawled, earning a cackle from Gwaine, and Merlin’s stomach tightening further.

Resident idiot, for being a sorcerer right under the King’s nose.

‘Yes, Sire.’ Merlin was too tired to quip back, too busy forgetting the stench of smoke.

He knew it happened. He knew people died, that Sorcerers could be burned.

‘I never thought I’d say this, but I miss your chatter.’ Arthur lowered his voice, but it wasn’t enough for the Knights to miss the way the King addressed him.

_Arthur’s in danger._

He was the one in danger, and he knew it. Gods, he just wanted Arthur to know he wasn’t the Monster that the King thought. Or would think, if he knew.

‘Just thinking.’

‘Careful, that sounds dangerous.’ It led to the perfect opening to tease Arthur, to shoot back an insult that would end up with him in the stocks.

Merlin ignored it.

_Danger!_

The Sorcerer had pleaded for mercy. Would Merlin do the same, or would he accept Arthur’s decision? He wanted to believe he could be brave, that he’d let Arthur light the pyre himself.

‘What’s wrong?’ Arthur finally asked, Merlin forcing his head to raise.

It was that moment that everything went wrong, that Merlin’s face was splashed with warmth as a gasp sounded, Leon shouting for them to protect the King.

The King, who had an arrow stuck straight through his neck, in a shot so precise that the attacker could be no more than a couple of metres away.

Arthur’s eyes widened, met Merlin’s gaze as the Warlock processed the fact that Arthur had _just been shot in the neck, oh Gods._

The Knights were dismounting, Merlin was lunging off his horse to catch the toppling King, bloody hands catching armour and slipping as he tried to lower him to the ground.

Whatever Arthur tried to say, whatever word his lips formed, it was covered by the dribbling red that traced down his skin, staining it as Merlin cradled him.

A horrible sound filled the clearing, like someone had been gutted, and it took a moment for Merlin to realise it was _him,_ he was screaming, his Magic was bursting free before he could stop it. He pitied the bandits, counting at least twenty-four as the trees around them were flattened outwards, vines snatching the man that had shot the fatal bolt.

‘Arthur, oh Arthur, my Arthur.’ Merlin muttered, repeated, hands closing around the arrow while he pumped Magic into the wound.

‘Shh, shh hold on, it won’t hurt for long.’ Someone said his name, perhaps a Knight, but Merlin’s hand shot out to send them away from _his King._

Arthur was staring at his eyes. He was gasping for air, dying, and he had to see the very thing he hated the most.

‘ _Forb_ _ærning.’_ He pleaded, concentrated, tugged in one smooth movement at the arrow.

Arthur’s back arched, Merlin’s mouth forming apologies as he placed hands over the wound, glowing as they tried to stitch the skin back together.

Today, Arthur had burned a Sorcerer for his use of Magic.

Merlin didn’t have to think before revealing his Magic, before using it to rip apart the bandit that had hurt him, that _could have killed him._

Popping joints, a faint scream that Merlin ignored, cradling Arthur’s head gently as the wound sealed.

‘You’ll be okay, perfectly fine, nothing more than a scratch.’ He promised, noting the black spots closing in on his vision.

‘Just a little longer.’ Arthur wasn’t fighting him. His eyes were wide, hands over Merlin’s, but he wasn’t tugging him back.

‘Only for you, Arthur.’ Merlin whispered, lowering his forehead to Arthur’s, for this might be the only time he _ever got to do this, he was going to burn._

‘Only ever for you.’ He promised, before the world went black.

At least it wasn’t orange.


End file.
